Do you have a favourite neighbourhood restaurant? It’s that place you head out to for an impromptu meal, somewhere that offers a solid menu with reasonable prices, and you know you can likely score a table without waiting too long. The food may not be Michelin quality, but you’re usually not disappointed, and the menu’s varied enough that you’ll find something to eat. If I lived in the Yonge and Eglinton area, Wild Chicory could be one of those favourite local haunts.

Their menu is extensive, with several starters that would work well as “tapas” or even act as a main with a side dish, for nights when you don’t have a big appetite. The flavours of the Seoul chicken ($16) were decent – a combination of sweet, sour, and spicy – but could use more gochujang for heat and less rice vinegar as it was a tad tart for my taste. Crispy and juicy, these would have been even better if it arrived hotter.

My husband hypothesized that the chicken likely got cold as they were waiting on the rice nuggets in the crispy pork belly ($17). Indeed, they were searingly hot, very crunchy and addicting – the best part of the dish. Disappointingly, the pork belly wasn’t actually crispy. Perhaps it’s because the big chunks of meat are difficult to render and the dish would be better served as slices so there’s a larger surface area. More likely, there could just be too much hoisin sauce covering everything, which I did find overpowering and would have worked better smeared on the plate so diners can adjust the amount they want on the pork.

The problem with such strong-tasting starters is that the mains feel bland in comparison. A special that evening was the beef rib ($28) that was prepared to tender but not too soft. However, a thick piece of beef needs liberal seasoning to permeate into the meat. When I was having it au natural, it tasted plain. Luckily, the dish did come with a creamy sweet corn bisque and barbeque sauce, two things to dunk the beef into. What impressed me most were the sides, a light creamy potato salad that was bursting with flavours and a crispy and fresh coleslaw.

In the coast to coast ($38), only the scallops were seasoned perfectly, the bit of salt enhancing the beautifully crusted seafood that arrive just cooked through. The salmon was okay, not overly flavourful but at least had a lovely crispy skin. If it was done a touch less it’d be even better since the dish doesn’t come with a sauce and the fish tends to dry out quickly. Meanwhile, the leek and pea barley was too mild and so over powered by the lemon foam that it started having a bitter undertone. Perhaps, it could have been saved with salt.

Maybe I was lucky I didn’t finish the barley as it left me room to share Wild Chicory’s tiramisu ($12), it was delicious… the perfect balance of soaked lady fingers and mascarpone laced cream. Shaving chocolate on top was a nice touch, but I’d still add a touch of cocoa powder as its bitterness would better balance the dessert. Consequently, the tiramisu’s sweetness did go particularly well with an espresso martini ($17), which had a slight bitterness that diluted the sugariness.

Ah… an espresso martini, my go-to drink lately for elongating a meal to make it last a little longer. And time is what you have at Wild Chicory: you’re not being rushed to leave or warned about a two-hour seating limit. That’s how neighbourhood spots should be – walk-in, choose something new or order a favourite, and then just sit back and enjoy.

If you love tasting menus like I do, Twenty Victoria likely offers one of the most affordable ones in Toronto. Through a prepayment on Tock, the non-refundable six-course meal is set at $175 per person and is inclusive of gratuities (but before taxes) meaning the only thing that needs to be settled at the restaurant are drinks (beverage menu prices also includes gratuities).

That evening’s menu was casually paperclipped onto the drink menu and was rather cryptic, each dish described using two ingredients such as trout & egg. A quick scan of the December offering left me surprised by how seafood forward Twenty Victoria’s winter meal would be, a welcomed change in my books.

But first, a plate of “snacks” arrives, two one bite wonders including a delicate crispy salt cod croquette and a dollop of sturgeon caviar placed on goat cheese and radish. Both worked to wake up the senses and the radish a refreshing and stronger substitute for the traditional blini.  

The first dish, kanpachi and oca root, combines slices of raw fish with a root vegetable that’s described as “a cousin of the potato” and tastes like a starchier jicama. While it looks like sashimi, when the kanpachi is mixed with the crunchy diced oca root, olive oil, citrus, and basil seedlings, the dish tastes more ceviche. It was a vibrant starter that happened to coincide with tropical music being played in the dining room (a mere coincidence), the happy music putting us at ease that it wouldn’t be a stuffy meal.

What seemed like A LOT of sauce arrived with the trout and egg. Yet, the whipped hollandaise-like sauce carried a lightness that didn’t overpower the rich fish and even worked solo with pieces of fallen fish roe. Ultimately, throughout the menu, we found the balance of richness and lightness was what made Twenty Victoria excel – serving a decadent ingredient with something refreshing or at least restrained so that you can continue through the menu without feeling gross.

Pairing chopped walnuts with scallops wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it wasn’t terrible either. The slightly cooked through nuts added a bit of texture against the soft scallops, which were perfectly seared and served with a lovely creamy sauce. In this dish, the raw celery (?) leaves provided a bright element to counteract the buttery condiment.

With the scallops comes their bread course, a magnificent loaf that needs to be sold to go. Hot and crispy, the dark brown crust breaks away to reveal a milky airy centre. It’s their version of Japanese milk bread, which makes complete sense after the explanation as my husband found it resembled a lighter brioche while it tasted like a richer pain au lait for me. Regardless, I only wish I didn’t devour it all as the bread would also go well with the next dish. My advice for you, save a quarter.

Admittedly, I was disappointed to see the ‘lobster’ in the turnip and lobster dish rendered into a sauce, albeit a deliciously rich and silky bisque. It’s that richness that elevates the sweet slender turnip, an ingredient that hardly gets diners excited. Twenty Victoria’s turnip was a great consistency, neither too mushy nor too raw, and when slathered with the lobster sauce and topped with a black truffle does make the root vegetable more palatable.

The lamb was cooked to perfection, and I love that there was a sliver of fat and/or skin on one side that formed a crackling to compliment the tender meat. I wouldn’t have thought to pair lamb with maitake mushrooms and kelp, but both crunchier vegetables went nicely with the delicate tenderloin adding interesting textures in lieu of the traditional mashed or roasted vegetable side dishes.

Prior to dessert, we were asked if we’d be interested in a cheese course, something not listed on the menu. Of course, we obliged, and it was a great way to finish off the wine before diving into a digestif. Large ribbons of Niagara Gold arrived with crisp lavish bread and a slightly sweet quince. Having had this prized local cheese on other occasions, served as a traditional wedge, the ribbons completely changed the cheese’s taste allowing it to cover the tongue and almost melt away. Indeed, cheese please!

The pastry of the carrot pie was a wonderful thickness and consistency, holding its shape but breaking apart easily to mix into the carrot filling. I would have liked the pie to be sweeter, especially since it was paired with tangy unsweetened whipped buffalo cheese and a sea buckthorn syrup. I guess its neutrality helps balance the much sweeter lemon and ricotta cake, a warm moist cake sitting in a light syrup, so the dessert almost feels like a sticky toffee pudding, except with a hint of citrus and not quite as sugary.

Some diners were surprised that Twenty Victoria didn’t make it onto Toronto’s Michelin guide. With their amazing food, it’s certainly a strong contender. I sense that with a couple of small tweaks they could get there … assuming the added stress is something their chefs want, of course.

For example, expanding their tableware selection would help. When someone splurges on champagne ($35) and not a mere sparkling wine, ideally, it’d be served in a flute as opposed to a regular wine goblet.

If I were to get really picky, offering a wider fish knife or a shallow spoon with a dish like the trout and egg, would make it easier for patrons to spoon the sauce and fish roe onto the trout for a more fulsome bite. Yet, it comes back to whether Twenty Victoria even cares. Right now, dining there just seems so carefree, especially when trying to obtain a reservation. Star or no star, it was a shining meal for me. 

There’s no better way to get into the mind of a restaurant than through their chef’s menu. At Richmond Station, every two weeks, their chefs create a tasting menu ($120) with an optional beverage pairing ($75) that tests ideas in progress (some finding a permanent home on the a la carte menu) and others simply showcasing the amazing ingredients available.

Their late July menu started us off with a selection of canapés, a great way to begin so diners have something to nibble on while waiting for the main attractions to arrive. We start with the salmon tart filled with finely chopped salmon, onion, and dill aioli creating a fresh savoury bite. The pastry has a soft crispiness that’s a little unexpected – it tastes like thinly compressed shortbread. The fish was great, but the shell made me ponder.

Luckily, I didn’t have to think for long as my mind was blown by the buttermilk oyster. It is SO good! What a genius idea to use buttermilk and herb oil as the flavouring – the creaminess combines wonderfully with the silky briny oyster, while still having a touch of acid. Ultimately, it allows the oyster to finish sweeter. Move over red onion mignonette, let’s hope buttermilk rains supreme.  

Our server suggests we follow the oyster with the thick tomato bisque, which was fine but not nearly as great as the oyster. Be sure to dig to the bottom of the teacup, that’s where you’ll find pieces of Parmesan crisps that add a salty hit to the soup.

Following orders, we sample the profiterole last as its sweet and salty filling (perhaps a liver mousse with maple syrup?) brings an almost dessert-like finish to the canapés. Personally, I think Richmond Station should consider including one of these with the bill, in lieu of the typical chocolate (the restaurant does put a sweet and salty spin on the mignonettes), as it’s unexpected and ends the meal on a lighter note.

It’s no surprise that the summer menu features a host of seafood: the starter, a scallop crudo, takes a fresh clean scallop and adds bits of radish to enhance the soft shellfish. I love the diced pickled jalapeño that add an unexpected hint of spice, which is calmed by the lime crème fraiche. I’ve always associated Richmond Station with meat (likely because of their famous burger), but this menu shows they do seafood well.

We’re advised the summer squash salad is created from things grown in their garden – barely cooked rounds of zucchini and sweet, peeled tomatoes sitting on a surprisingly rich squash purée that’s spiced with miso. Somehow, they created a feeling of having a “warm” salad without raising the temperature.

The black sea bass was steamed to perfection and the mound of mushroom foam, once mixed with the vermouth cream, creates a comforting cream of mushroom taste – an unexpected and enjoyable twist. While the dish could have become heavy, once you pop one of the Saltspring Island mussels into your mouth, the acidic bite resets the taste buds.

In terms of food, the only slight slip on the menu was the honey-glazed Muscovy duck. While it was cooked well and had great flavours, our piece had a chewy silvery bit running through the meat. Since the duck was left as a larger piece (likely to ensure it stays warmer), that grizzly flaw made it difficult to cut thinly and made for a chewy bite.

My recommendation, if there is a tell-tale silvery sign after cutting into the duck, is for the kitchen to proceed to slice the breast into thin slices… even at the detriment of the meat arriving cooler than normal. In this case, perhaps pour the au jus from a hot vessel tableside to bring heat back into the dish? It’s just a shame when you can’t enjoy the duck to it’s fullest because you have a mound in your mouth that you’re chewing through like Bubblicious.

Cheers to the duck sausage, which was delicious, especially when mixed with a bit of creamed Swiss chard, chanterelle mushrooms, and sour cherry jus.

Richmond Station was smart to serve their pillowy soft bread with the duck, so diners don’t fill-up on the warm milky creation. Normally, I would have devoured both, but by the end of the meal I could only have one. In hindsight, I should have skipped the cup of tomato soup to save room for the roll.

Dessert brought us a custardy vanilla panna cotta topped with tart stewed gooseberries, berry sorbet, and meringue pieces. Like many of the other dishes, Richmond Station seems to always like to feature at least two flavours – in this case sweet and sour – to keep every bite interesting.

The petit fours bring the meal full circle with a fruit tart made with the same crust as the salmon… yes, I still remembered the shortbread like shell by the end of the meal, and it works better for a sweet.  

While the food was a hit, service could improve with two slight adjustments:

• Richmond Station’s cozy upstairs dining room doesn’t make it easy to hear people – especially when they are wearing a mask. I’d recommend having the chef remove their mask when explaining the dish or letting the maskless servers do the talking, as I could only catch every third word of the explanation and didn’t have the heart to keep asking them to repeat themselves.

• If need be, slow down the food service to give the front-of-the-house enough time to do their part. For example, we had to follow-up on our drinks that hadn’t arrived by the time the canapes were presented – champagne goes so well with oysters that it would be a shame not to have them together. And there was an instance where a dish was presented before the cutlery was set – to their credit, the chef noticed right after explaining the dish and went to get the cutlery… at the same time our server arrived to lay it out. I get it, there’s a staffing shortage so these things will happen. Perhaps, slowing down the pace of how quickly dishes are coming out will give servers (especially new and inexperienced ones) more time to complete all their prep work.

At least bill settlements are kept simple. Richmond Station’s prices already includes gratuities, so when you ask for the check, they just add on taxes. The pay machine arrives with the total inputted and ready to tap. So, finalizing the transaction is simply a snap. Don’t worry, I’ll stop doing rhymes now.